We are ushered into the inner Sanctum of a Momentum squad building somewhere in deepest Islington, a place where the champagne flows deep and the socialism even deeper.
“Mind your step!” a woman in a Greenpeace jumper shouts, as our crew is pushed through narrow corridors going downwards into an inner sanctum that seems endless. The memorabilia on the walls is unmistakable, here we have old Soviet posters urging class struggle, and pictures of Lenin jumping over barricades, and Hezbollah masked men shooting at Jews. These are all recipes for a healthy revolution on a Downing Street that has been governed by the Tories for quite some time now, simply because Labour can’t be trusted with the purse strings after their massive spending spree under Blair and Brown. The country still has not recovered from Labour’s economic blitz on Britain’s coffers, but Corbyn and his crew want to make the ultimate grade this time around.
Suddenly out of nowhere, the bearded one appears, he stands under a single naked bulb swinging erratically. Looking like some sort of Vietcong General, Corbyn ushers us into a tiny room where wall charts plaster every surface.
“The plan is to get into Number 10 by any means possible. We utilise the young, the naive, the politically infantile who have not seen and experienced what a Labour government is. We will make every promise under the sun to these people and they, not knowing any better, will believe us. Once we are in power, we will spend until the coffers are empty, lose the next election to the Tories who will right the books again, then we will come back for more spending. You see the Tories do not spend, but we do.”
The Soviet technique of repetition is a well-known method in getting the message across, and this is a Labour favourite.
“Yes, repetition, repetition, repetition until the people cannot see anything else? Repeat a lie enough times, and it becomes a truth. This is our technique, and it is a truly tried and tested method that works on the people. The plebs, the people cannot be trusted, this is why it is up to the Politburo to dictate to them what has to be done, what has to be read, what tasks they must do to achieve our approval.”
What about Theresa May, who seems to be holding on to the reins of power with quite a tight grip?
“Her position is not assured. If there is another internal leadership squabble, we will go for a General Election call. Our teams up and down the country, our student faculties who all voted twice for me, we are organised, we are determined. You see these socks (pointing to red socks on slippers), these socks will assure me a Number 10 position because they are an assured symbol of my intention, and this is what people need. They want British Rail, they want British Gas, and they want a Royal Mail for the people, not for the companies. I want to travel British Rail and eat a soggy cheese and tomato British Rail fucking sandwich. This is what I want and this is what millions of people who will vote for me want. Get it?”
Suddenly, out of the darkness one of Momentum’s rottweiler feminazi mustachioed women comes up behind us, grabs us by the nape of our necks and drags us out through a back entrance. Time is up, and Corbyn has some important preparations to make.
